


so into you

by HazedHaze



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Sick Character, Sickfic, so self-indulgence sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazedHaze/pseuds/HazedHaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Celia is sick and Tamara goes over to visit her.<br/>((warning for girls being way too cute and kinda angsty together)) </p>
<p>//Gulping, Tamara knocked on the solid, white door a couple of times, loudly, in case Celia couldn’t hear, and waited for a reply. She stood outside the door for a few minutes, contemplating whether she could convince Jasper to quickly drive around and pick her up, when she heard sudden bumps coming from inside the house. The bumps stopped but a moment later, the distinct sound of a door being unlocked sounded.</p>
<p>The door opened inwards with a sudden whoosh and Celia stood, small and tousled but attentive.//</p>
<p>[a.k.a.: a lesson on self-indulgence by HazelTM -- or: a.k.a: 'I have too many feelings about one specific girl' by Tamara/HazelTM (again)]</p>
            </blockquote>





	so into you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@verritytorres + @meidiama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40verritytorres+%2B+%40meidiama).



> heyy it's me again, hazel [@magisteriumm] and you know how im obsessed with telia right now?
> 
> well
> 
> i might've written a long fic (this fic) about them, inspired by my and verr's (@verritytorres) respective illnesses that decided to arrive at the same time.  
> ((thanks universe for this inspiring sickness))
> 
> so, i hope you enjoy this sick!fic with fluff and angst and Jasper&Tamara BROTPness

“Have you heard, Tamara?”

“Heard about what?”

Tamara was, as of that moment, focusing on painting her toenails a bright shade of orange for no particular reason, and was in a room with her gossip-loving friend, Jasper.

He’d been concentrating on his phone for a while (claiming to be texting someone even though Tamara could clearly see the Neko Atsume game display from her bed) and had left Tamara to do her pedicure in peace – as peaceful as you could be whilst holding a brush loaded with varnish right next to your sheets.

It seemed, she thought with a sigh, that Jasper wanted to say something important. They never really talked seriously that much when he came over – on account of them both liking each other but liking their tech more – and instead focused on playing games or something like that.

Mario Kart was often a go to activity but Tamara had been placed on a ban of ‘only one tournament per week’ since they tended to carry on playing well into the night which her parents didn’t enjoy one bit.

Apparently, the screaming and yelling and expletives were _not-appropriate- at-that-time-of-night-Tamara_. And since they and their friends always had a game night at the weekend, when Tamara’s parents were out and her sisters were busy, they saved the tournament time for then.

 

“About Celia,” Jasper wasn’t looking up from his game but his voice seemed quite flat – too serious.

“What about Celia?” Tamara had carefully put her varnish down and out of the way, all the toenails completed but awaiting another coat, perhaps.

Celia was a friend... who wasn’t really _Tamara’s_ friend but a friend of a friend; a friend of Call’s, actually. And Call seemed to have a habit of accumulating friends and dragging them together. In their circle, there were 6 total and they’d only really talked to each other in depth because of Call – excluding Jasper and Tamara who knew each other beforehand.

Celia tended to talk with Drew and Call more than the others and so Tamara had left their relationship at that. Even though the other girl came over for the gaming nights and such, they tended to not interact one-to-one. Tamara sometimes thought, _Maybe I should try to talk with Celia more?_ But she never really seemed to act on that idea.

“Well, she’s sick.” Jasper delivered the words in a scratchy voice, “Pretty sick, actually.”

“ _’Pretty’_ does not tell me how sick she is. C’mon, that diamond education wasn’t for nothing, right?” Tamara always loved to taunt him.

“You just said, ‘C’mon’ so you have no right to analyse me, Tam,” Tamara could hear a whine at the end of that sentence, just like when he was 11. Nostalgia was so cunning, “I mean, 'pretty' is an intensifier and is therefore grammatically correct but what you said just pushes the barriers of langu-“

“Look, just tell me: how sick is she?” Jasper had a habit of rambling when he was annoyed or worried but Tamara figured that she couldn’t tell which one it was thanks to her taunting and its negative effect on him.

“I would’ve told you if you weren’t rude to me,” Tamara could hear the pout in his voice, what an ass, and resisted the urge to scowl. “You deserved it.”

“Wha-No I didn’t!” Jasper had turned around and was pulling one of his better _‘I-am-so-offended-right-now’_ faces.

“Oh stop the posturing. How is Celia doing?” Tamara cut to the chase, ironically away from the conversation chase that she had started.

 

“Well, she texted me this morning and said to tell you that she wouldn’t be able to attend game night this week,” Jasper had stopped acting so surprised and went back to his phone again; Tamara would never able to pull him away from that for long, would she?, and so Jasper carried on, “Apparently, she’s come down with some kind of heavy bug that she doesn’t want to spread to anyone but she didn’t tell me the name of it. She says it’ll blow over in a week or so, probably, but she’s hunkering down at her house in the meantime.”

“Why didn’t she text me?” Tamara was honestly confused because, sure, Jasper was on his phone a lot and therefore would be the likeliest to actually read a text, but he was bad at passing on information to others – a fact that Tamara painfully learned after asking him to tell Aaron that she was going on a short holiday without service and coming back to find her friend almost hysterical, thinking that she’d gone missing.

“She doesn’t have your number, remember?” Jasper looked up very pointedly at Tamara, something that she didn’t appreciate at that moment as it would give him the perfect opportunity to watch her face light up with embarrassment – he must’ve done it on purpose because she did indeed struggle to fight back the surprise that tried to light up her eyes.

“I...I forgot.” _What’s the most Tamara-way to let someone know that you don’t consider them a proper friend in a small group? Don’t give them your number._ Tamara almost slapped herself.

“Well, whatever, I’ll give you hers and you can text her, if you want.” Jasper held out his phone to Tamara so she could look at his contacts, “She’s not going to be able to communicate with anyone else for a while so you might kept her company by texting her.”

“That settles it, I need to go over.”

 

Tamara flung her feet off the bed and walked towards her closet. Determinedly opening it and grabbing a simple red hoodie, she folded it over her arm and kicked Jasper in the leg.

“Ow.” Jasper rubbed his shin and started to complain, “Don’t be stupid, you might catch the bug and then where will you be? We’ll be missing two people on game night and you’ll have to spend your summer hols being sick. Why would you do that? And why are you kicking me?”

“Correction: I _kicked_ you but if you keep on complaining, I’ll kick you again.” Tamara was being a little rude but he could handle it, “And if I catch it, then you’ll have even numbers again, won’t you? So I don’t see why you’re getting whiny.”

“Fine, then.” Jasper scowled, but wasn’t that what he did most of the time? “I know what that kick means. What do you want me to do?”

“Glad you caught on; I need you to drive me down to her house.” Tamara opened her bedroom door and started to walk downstairs, leaving Jasper to trail behind her, “I don’t know where she lives and if I really do catch the bug, I’ll need someone to drive me back home.”

“Ugh, why I am always the one who has to do this sort of thing? Just leave me in peace, Tam.” He was whining but he was whining _and moving_ which was a good, productive sign. It was basically the sign of agreement for Jasper when it came down to tasks.

“Leave you in peace with your _cats_ , Jasper?” Tamara was bringing out the blackmail material and couldn’t help a devious smirk from appearing on her face as she watched Jasper’s face darken with horror, “Now why would I do that when you could grab your keys and drive me around today?”

“I hate you sometimes.” Jasper was whispering to himself but picked his keys off the rack that was to the side of the front door.

“Sure you do,” Tamara opened the door and ushered Jasper out before yelling to her sister, Kimiya who was the only one downstairs, “I’m going out to a friend’s place and I won’t be back for a while! I’LL TEXT YOU LATER!”

“No shouting,” Kimiya replied, a standard rule in the Rajavi house, before carrying on with a simple, “Okay, I’ll tell the rest.”

“Thanks,” And _then_ Tamara shut the door and walked over to Jasper, who was already sitting in the driver’s seat.

 

“God, if we’re doing this, can you not take so long?” Jasper rolled down the window as Tamara walked over to the other side, opened the door, fell into the plush seats, and closed it with a bang, “And try to not kill my car, thanks.”

“I’ll remember that,” Tamara hummed a little before getting to business, “So, Celia’s sick, right? So what would you want to eat if you were sick?”

“People tell you to have soup but I hate that so I’d say ‘fuck it’ and have something like ice-cream or cookies.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the soup companies about your opinions,” Tamara tapped on the inside of the door as Jasper pulled out of her driveway and made his way out of the estate, “Let’s go to this shop nearby they sell some nice sweet stuff and the owner likes me.”

“By threat of blackmail,” Jasper muttered but drove towards the shop anyway.

“Is that mutiny I hear?”

“Of course – and the revolution always wins, remember?”

“Not always. And never against me.”

“Well then, my rebellion will be the one to win.”

“Keep dreaming. Actually don’t, because you’re driving. Because I told you to drive.”

 

 

*

 

 

An hour or so later, Jasper pulled up outside a fairly large house with large white-pine trees littering the lawn and parked the car. Tamara tightened her grip of a bag full of treats (they’d spent ages arguing over how much Tamara could buy for Celia before they’d settled on a bag size – that didn’t stop Tamara from fitting it to the brim) before clambering out of the car.

“Look, text me when you want to be picked up; as long as it isn’t too late.” Jasper called out as she closed the door – he rolled down the passenger window as Tamara walked away, “And give me, like, a 30 minute forewarning. I can’t just appear instantly.”

“I’ll remember that. Now go have fun with your new digital friends.” Tamara gave him a wave as he scowled once more and drove away.

Tamara confidently strolled up the path until she reached the door, where she hesitated.

_Would Celia be well enough to answer the door? Was Celia alone? (Tamara remembered that Jasper had mentioned something about Celia’s parents being away on business on the ride to the shop.)_

_Should Tamara even come and demand her attention when she was obviously unwell? Maybe she should just dump the treats and leave. But could she enter Celia’s home without permission?_ Tamara stood on the porch, hearing the high-pitched twinkling sound as the many wind chimes rattled together, before deciding to ring the doorbell. If Celia didn’t answer, then she would be too sick to even possibly entertain a guest in any way, and Tamara would come back another day or push the sweets through the open downstairs window.

Gulping, Tamara knocked on the solid, white door a couple of times, loudly, in case Celia couldn’t hear, and waited for a reply. She stood outside the door for a few minutes, contemplating whether she could convince Jasper to quickly drive around and pick her up, when she heard sudden bumps coming from inside the house. The bumps stopped but a moment later, the distinct sound of a door being unlocked sounded.

The door opened inwards with a sudden whoosh and Celia stood, small and tousled but attentive.

 

They looked at each other for a few silent seconds, Tamara noting the blanket that was desperately covering most of Celia’s body from the head down, and her fluffy, blonde hair that hung just above her shoulders, before Celia suddenly cried, “oh!” in a somewhat broken voice and moved aside to let Tamara pass through.

“Is it really the right decision to just let anyone through when you’re ill?” Tamara said as she moved past Celia into a sparsely decorated hallway.

“Concerned for yourself?” Tamara almost winced at the sound of Celia’s voice, out of control and ragged, “You signed yourself up to visiting a sick girl.”

“More concerned for you and whether you’d even be able to defend yourself from attackers in that state,” Tamara set her bag down on the stairs, removed her shoes and stood with them in her hands before Celia pointed to a pile of shoes in the corner of the hall.

“I could fight anytime,” Celia straightened her back before curling in and coughing violently. Tamara chucked her shoes on the pile and ran up to the sick girl, “. . . O-kay, maybe not.”

“Maybe not,” Tamara agreed and held her hands out, “You should probably rearrange that blanket of yours, y’know. You’ll get sick.”

“Really?” Celia replied with dry wit and let Tamara take the blanket. “I’ve just had some medicine.”

The material was so soft but a little cold so Tamara folded it over neatly, noticing how big it was and how much of it was trailing on the floor behind Celia, before wrapping it around the other girl, stretching it from the neck to the bottom of her feet. It was barely touching the tiled floor.

Tamara kept her eyes focused on her hands, partly to stay concentrated and partly to avoid looking up and showing her red face, and made sure to bring the blanket around to fit over Celia’s arms (which were bare, something that must’ve made the other feel cold but made Tamara flush a little). She looked at Celia.

The other girl might’ve been blushing, Tamara couldn’t tell since she had been so red and unwell looking to begin with, but Celia was most definitely a little embarrassed. Her blue eyes kept darting to the side, pulled to empty corners; her pink lips pulled timidly to the side; her neck unnaturally straight.

The moment was awkward, Tamara focusing on Celia’s darting eyes and Celia focusing on everything but Tamara, so when the taller girl coughed and said,

“You should probably wear something on your feet; they’re bare, y’know.”

Celia’s eyes snapped up to look at her before grinning, moment forcefully shoved away, and padded into the kitchen, ignoring Tamara’s advice.

 

_Why do I always try to help?_ Tamara sighed, but halfheartedly, as she picked up her bag and followed Celia into the next room. _My friends are almost all bat-shit crazy and don’t listen anyway._

When Tamara entered, Celia had slumped onto a black stool next to the breakfast bar island in the middle of the white and black themed room. Despite Celia’s outfit – that Tamara had noticed under the swath that was the pink blanket – which consisted of a white t-shirt and intentionally paint-splotched, multi-coloured pajama bottoms, where she lived seemed pretty...

Well, pretty normal.

It was a normal-looking home with a normal garden for the area and the rooms seemed quite plainly painted and decorated. There didn’t really seem to be anyone really _living_ there with a personality and memories and preferences. But maybe that was true.

Having parents on a business trip whilst you’re sick isn’t really the best example of a connected family.

But that wasn’t really Tamara’s business. Nor was it the focus of her trip.

She mentally shook her head _(Is it even possible to mentally shake something?_ She wondered) before setting her bag down with a slight clunk, packets falling onto other packets, on the main surface in the room.

Celia watched as Tamara took out the contents of the bag and laid them out beside her on the counter. The action was a repetitive one, _hand in, sickeningly sweet thing out_ , but one that Celia seemed fascinated with, judging by her silence.

The silence in the house was peacefully and timeless, interrupted only by short coughing fits from Celia, who struggled to get rid of whatever it was that was stuck in her throat, and the mechanical and out-of-sync ticks of the many clocks through the house. The scene would’ve been one straight out of an aesthetic, the kind that Call liked to stick on his walls, except for the lack of striking visuals. Her red hoodie and Celia’s pink blanket didn’t exactly contrast well with the basic colours of the kitchen.

Tamara got so caught up her thinking that she was momentarily surprised to see that she’d emptied the bag. The contents lined up in straight rows and Tamara wondered where she would put them when a small voice, brave but vulnerable, coughed once and starting talking,

“Why have you got food?”

“If this is your idea of food, I can see why you’re sick,” Tamara joked, still contemplating which cupboard might contain the missing fridge, when she realised that that might be a little too harsh for someone unused to her sarcasm.

She looked up from what she was doing to take it back when she noticed Celia’s confused but shining face on the other side of the cabinet. Because of their height difference, Tamara was taller than the sitting down girl by a long way, and that really impressed a stark feeling in Tamara’s heart.

Something she hadn’t really felt before.

 

“Why did you come?” The question, phrased in a way that made it seem both accusing and simply curious, came tumbling out of Celia’s mouth. From the look in the sick girl’s sea-like eyes, Celia didn’t mean it to be interrogative but still, the atmosphere took on an air of tension.

“Well, I-um-“ Tamara stuttered, cursing her words and her past self for not being nicer, “You were ill and alone and I thought you’d like the company…” She trailed off, twisting her fingers together.

“But you . . .“ Celia moved around the cabinet to stand next to the other girl and grabbed one of Tamara’s nervous hands and held it tight, the sudden pressure making Tamara gulp, “You never talk to me.”

There was nothing Tamara could say to that so she just stood there and watched as Celia’s head dropped down, her hair hiding her face from Tamara, and the grip on her hand grew tighter.

“Y-you never talk to me,” Celia whispered again, small sniffs interrupting her speech, whether it be from her illness or sadness, “You don’t even like me.”

That was a statement that Tamara just couldn’t accept.

“Celia.”

The other girl looked up, her free hand wiping at her face and eyes bleary, and waited for Tamara to continue.

“Celia, I do like you. I’ve never really talked to you one to one, which is totally my bad, but we do talk in the group and that means we _are_ friends.” Tamara placed both of her hands on top of Celia’s, “I'm sure of that now.”

“Now?” Celia took her hand away from her head and it lay limp at her side, “What do you mean?”

“I used to wonder if we were friends or not. But now I know that when I decided to come here, I was signing up to confronting this issue even if it wasn’t so much of an issue at all. We might not have talked a lot but people can decide to be friends whenever they want so long as they both agree.” Tamara smiled, trying to give Celia support.

“And do we agree?” Celia said.

“I do.”

“So do I."

“So it’s settled. You’re the only other person in our group with sense, y’know, so it was destiny that we were gonna be best friends.”

“You make me blush,” Celia replied, her tone instantly cheerier.

“I make everyone blush,” Tamara laughed, “Are you hungry? It’s the afternoon, right? I haven’t eaten for hours.”

“That’s true,” As Celia coughed out a laugh, Tamara wondered, _which is true?_ , “In fact, I am pretty hungry. I threw up my breakfast at noon.”

“Wait, so you've been throwing up?”

“Uh, yeah, Jasper didn’t tell you?”

“He told me you have a bug or something but he never specified.”

“I suppose that’s my fault. I didn’t exactly tell him, did I?” Celia thought out loud, “I was a bit delirious then, but I’m better now. I mean, I’m talking in coherent sentences, right?”

“You sure are! You know, you should probably not eat anything then. I’m going to hide all this food I just bought you. And you should honestly wrap up more, that blanket is doing nothing for you.”

“Wait, you can’t just put all that food in front of me and not let me eat it.” Celia started to protest but Tamara just pulled her hand closer. Celia stumbled and fell into Tamara.

Tamara’s heart started racing as she looked down at Celia. The sick girl looked up and bit her lip whilst Tamara just stood there. They stood like that for a while before Tamara said,

“You’re so short.”

“You’re too tall,” Celia whinged and smiled before slowly linking fingers with Tamara. They both watched silently as each individual finger was slotted into the corresponding gap in the other’s hands. It was so repetitive but it was so calming.

 

She pulled their hands down and smiled, one that Tamara might’ve considered menacing and plotting if she wasn’t a) preoccupied; and b) infatuated. _Oh._

_Wait--_

“I-I-I am not!” Tamara stuttered, trying to push the words out in a way that didn’t make her sound embarrassed and didn’t reveal what she truly meant.

“You are too. What sorta person has the right to be so much taller than me?” Celia yawned and her eyelids started to flutter, “Do ya have a licence for that? For doing this to my heart?”

“What do you mean?” Tamara looked down in confusion as the other girl closed her eyes and promptly fell into Tamara. The sudden force rocked the taller girl but she quickly righted herself and stood in shock as Celia started lightly snoring.

“It’s rude to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation. But you’re ill and sweet so I’ll give you some leeway.” And so, Tamara unlinked their fingers regretfully and checked to see if Celia was really sleeping before picking her up bridal style and carrying her out of the room.

 

_The food can wait to be put away,_ Tamara thought to herself as she walked towards the large staircase in the hall, _it’s not like there’s anything other than cupboard stuff in there._

Celia was small and relatively light in Tamara’s arms. Lighter than she expected. _It must be the sickness_ , Tamara concluded as she took the stairs one at a time.

The girl slept peacefully, even when Tamara stubbed her toe on the banister at the top of the stairs and grunted, with only the occasional rise and fall of her torso to indicate that she was still breathing.

"Now where’s your bedroom? You really should’ve given me a house tour.” Tamara muttered as she tapped on the doors with her foot to open them and check for a bed. She was strong, granted, but carrying a girl her own age up a staircase was demanding work.

Eventually she found a white door and pushed it open. Inside lay an abundance of things, more colourful than anything Tamara had ever seen, but perhaps that was due to the lack of colour in the rest of the building, and in the corner was a double bed covered in screwed up blankets.

Tamara made her way to the bed, avoiding the tissues on the floor that Celia had presumably thrown across the room, and then carefully lay the other girl down.

She pulled the blankets off, tugging them out from underneath Celia’s curled up legs, and flattened them before lying all of them on top of the sleeping girl.

Celia gave a slight cough in the midst of the operation but she sounded a lot better than during her coughing fit earlier. Despite all of Tamara’s worries that morning, maybe talking to Celia had helped her.

 

“You sleep tight, I’m going to put away the stuff and wait for you to wake up.” Tamara paused for a second for any sort of reply but afterwards she smiled at the resting girl.

After maybe patting the fluffy mass of hair a few times, and maybe tying it up so it didn’t crowd her pinkish face, Tamara readjusted the sick bucket next to Celia’s bed (that she had thankfully emptied) and picked up all of the tissues around the room. The state of the room was atrocious, in comparison to Tamara’s at least, but it seemed like it was a representation of how Celia was feeling.

She was ill and not really at peace so her room was in a chaotic state. Tamara didn’t really believe in any sort of spiritual stuff but just that once, she allowed herself to clean up the room and readjust the furniture to a more organised and peaceful state.

Because maybe, just maybe, that peaceful state of the room would reflect onto Celia and help her get better.

_It might not,_ she considered as she scowled at a large clump of tissues in the middle of the room, _but it’s worth a go. For Celia._

 

 

**

 

 

Celia awoke, bleary-eyed, and tried to make sense of reality.

Of course, that was a hard job for anyone, let alone someone who’s just woken up, so Celia only managed to figure out a few things.

First, that she was in her own bed and covered in a pile of blankets that made her feel warm all over – even to her toes!

Second, that she felt a lot better and her mouth didn’t feel as dry and acidic as it normally did – well, normal for her current state of sickness.

Third, that that Tamara had been at her house and—

“Oh no. . .” Celia croaked out, her voice filled with as much dread as she could convey, as she realised what had happened earlier.

They’d been talking or maybe flirting, Celia didn’t even know whether they even had a friendship before Tamara came around, and Celia had gotten upset and too emotional from the chemicals rushing around her body. She’d asked Tamara too many stupid and awkward questions for one conversation.

They’d even _held hands_ for god’s sake.

Celia vowed to never be sick again (since she obviously has no control over what she says whilst under the influence of the universe’s bad luck).

That’s when she recalled falling into Tamara’s arms and what she said.

"No, no, no, no, no,” Celia mouthed, not even able to produce a noise, and screwed her eyes shut.

_Tamara was probably weirded-out and went home or something,_ Celia worried as she bit her nails, _you just managed to get her to talk to you and call you her friend and then you ruined it by telling her that she made your heart mess around._

_She’s gonna realise you meant that you love her and then she’s gonna go, she’s gonna go, she’s gonna go, she’s gonna go, she’s gonna go, she’s gonna go, sh—_

Movement from outside her door made Celia’s train of thought halt. It sounded like shuffling and then the door opened with a creak and Celia heard footsteps.

The noise grew slightly as the person walking got closer and Celia wondered who it was. One of her friends? No, she had warned them all away. Her parents? Probably still on that trip of theirs.

She was stuck thinking until the steps stopped and Celia sensed a person beside her bed, leaning over.

 

“Celia?” A whisper stole through the air. “Are you awake?”

Celia didn’t make a move, except for practiced breathing at staged intervals, and didn’t even know if she’d be able to talk given her dehydration.

“Oh, so you’re not. That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.” The voice grew a little in volume but the emotions of serenity, care and love were overpowering.

“You’re been sleeping for a few hours now and I’m not sure what I should do, exactly.” The voice hummed a little in between sentences; _who was it?_

“I’ve never looked after anyone before. When anyone in my family was sick, I always had my two older sisters or my parents to do the job for me.” _Two older sisters? It wasn’t—_ “I’ve been sick a few times myself but I can’t really remember the times. It’s like the memory is obscured by your own brain, like you want to forget it because it’s not really you talking.

“Or,” The voice sighed, “it’s because you were too truthful. I don’t think I want to know how many truths I’ve told whilst I was sick. It’s like the feeling of being so far down does something to you and you don’t really care about what you’re saying and what impact it’s going to have. Like, it just doesn’t matter.”

Celia held her breath and decided to peek at the person beside her. She needed to know.

She cautiously opened her eyes and looked at the figure in the red hoodie by her beside. She remembered that clothing from somewhere. . . The person was staring off to the side, as though they were just talking to themselves.

As Celia’s vision improved, she saw the finer details – the sleeves that were rolled up to different lengths on each beautiful arm; the brown, silky hair pulled back into double plaits; the look in the person’s eyes that became more determined by the second.

 

“Celia, were you trying to tell me that you love me?”

 

Tamara turned around to face Celia with a resolution for the truth blazing on her face. And Celia just watched as the other girl realised that she was listening. The shock was clear and Tamara was immediately trying to stammer an apology, the determination blown away by her sheer presence, when Celia pulled herself up and grabbed a cup of fresh water from the bedside table.

_She couldn’t go back now. Shouldn’t go back._

Celia downed the cup, swallowed the water without chocking, and said as clearly as she could, “I was.”

There was a few seconds of silence; Tamara was staring at Celia in a way that was unrecognizable but maybe, she hoped, maybe it wasn’t repulsion.

“I’m gonna go ahead and say something now because we can’t be silent forever.” Tamara said and twisted her fingers in the bottoms of her plaits.

“I confess this and then you answer with that?” Celia said, her voice croaky again, before reaching out to slap Tamara’s head with the little strength she had, “Appalling.”

“I’m not good at stuff like this, okay?” Tamara pulled her hands away from her hair and starting gesturing wildly with them, “In fact, I’ve never done anything like this so forgive me for dealing with sudden feelings in a bad way.”

“Sudden?” Celia said, her fantasies of a relationship dashed, “So you don’t—“

“No, I didn’t say that!” Tamara reached for Celia’s hand that had just hit her and covered it with her own, “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I carried you to bed—“

“You carried me?” Celia said, both confused by how strong Tamara was and the gentle but frantic circles the other girl was rubbing on her hand with her thumb.

“Uh, yeah. You fell into me and starting sleeping and I wasn’t going to let you fall onto the floor so I, um, might’ve carried you upstairs.” Tamara sounded sheepish despite confessing to having done something wonderful, “But I’ve been thinking whilst you’ve been asleep.”

_Oh no_ , Celia looked down at her covered hand, unable to look Tamara in the eye, _she’s going to tell me that she’s not interested and she’s allowed to do that but I hoped, I really hoped she might’ve liked me and that it would work out okay but I shouldn’t have dreamed. Not for a girl like her._

"I think that I really like you.” Celia’s head flung up and she looked at Tamara as the other girl gulped and panicked a bit at the sudden attention before carrying on.

 

“You’re really sweet and creative and nice and. . . Um . . . really pretty,” Tamara whispered, embarrassed by what she was saying, “And I’ve been thinking about how I feel so much . . . so much lighter around you. You’re so great and I really love that.

“I just really worry that this is unfair of me to have this sort of conversation when you’re ill and probably not really in control of what you’re saying. Whether it is because you’re saying too much and this is basically taking away any of your consent in the matter or because you don’t love me or something.”

Tamara chewed her lip and the two girls just watched each, both creating swirling patterns on each other’s hands.

“You know,” Celia said, the first to move past the sudden conversation blockade, “you probably shouldn’t end such a magnificent speech with ‘or something.’”

“You’re criticizing my vocabulary, too! It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Celia said, “But you’ve got to know that I’m dying right now. Not seriously, I mean, I’ve been in love with you ever since I heard you talk but you never noticed until you came around and now you’re trying to ask me if my love is real? It’s a little bit offensive, honestly, but I’m just too happy to care.”

Celia smiled before carrying on,

“I love you and will love you regardless of how much vomit I can fill that bucket with.” Celia nudged the object next to her feet.

“That’s not a very romantic sentence, y’know.” Tamara grinned and it seemed like they shared the same sort of humour.

“Well we both get a chance to fail in this conversation, don’t we? Don’t hog the failure.” Celia started to laugh and then Tamara joined in and the combined sounds of happiness were unlike anything they had experienced in a long time.

 

“So,” Tamara said, after their laughs had died down and smiles decorated their faces instead of frowns, “you’ve single handily destroyed any passive notion I had of being straight, well done on that by the way, so I think I can say this truthfully, “I really love you, Celia.”

They looked at each other and smiled, content with the words and the holding of each other’s hands, before Tamara scowled,

“And I’m not going to say ‘like like’ because then I’d be like Jasper and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” They paused for another giggle, and Tamara said,

“But, seriously, do you want to try this out. This dating thing?”

“Of course.”

 

Tamara breathed a sigh of relief,

“Thank god. Jasper told me he’s picking me up at 9 pm or not at all; this day would get really awkward if I had to hang around for a few more hours and you told me you didn’t want to date after all that.”

“Don’t ruin the moment!” Celia laughed again, another cheery and energizing one, forgetting that she was ill.

“Now you stay in bed, I’ll tell Jasper not to pick me up since I’ll be looking after you.” Tamara pulled her hands away and motioned for Celia to crawl under the covers.

“Hope you know what you’re signing up for: you’ll be looking after me for the rest of our lives because I’m very accidental prone but I’m sure as hell not going anywhere.” Celia huddled under the blankets and sighed happily before looking up at her new girlfriend bathed in tinted light coming in through her curtains.

“You better not because I love you.” Tamara leaned forward and kissed Celia.

 

It was magical. Celia would later describe it as hope incarnate considering everything. A little fortunate that the wondrous feeling that overloaded her brain came when she was at her lowest. But Tamara was so wondrous herself and she was both the explosions and the balm of Celia’s new life.

They stayed like that for a bit before Tamara pulled her lips away and rested her head on Celia’s forehead.

“I imagine that we might look back on this day and curse ourselves for having our first kiss when you were sick; it might put a damper on this in the future.” Tamara said.

“Are you kidding? This was one of the worst weeks ever but this; this is the best moment of my life so far.” Celia smirked and grabbed Tamara’s hand to hold it for a while.

“We’ll need to make more of those best moments, won’t we?” Tamara crouched beside the bed as Celia rested her head and closed her eyes, her mind full of the image of Tamara’s face when they kissed. “It’s a pity that I’m going to catch this bug, given the contact and whatnot, but I think you’ll enjoy the opportunity to be in my position next time.”

Tamara gave Celia a small kiss on the forehead as the sick girl drifted away into unconsciousness.

But Celia was awake enough to hear Tamara’s final words.

“It was so worth it.”

_It sure was_ , Celia agreed as she slept with sweet dreams. _It sure was._

 

**Author's Note:**

> \--please click the kudos button <3 bc a) why not?; and b) it takes less than a second--
> 
> ((if you have too many emotions concerning this ship, please feel free to leave a comment below or message//@ me on my tumblr @magisteriumm where i too have too many emotions))
> 
> anyway, i can rest somewhat easy knowing that i have published at least one telia fanfic (tho i will never sleep completely until telia is canon)
> 
> \--hazel <33


End file.
